The Flames of a Swordsmith's Heart
by r.k.Oujirou
Summary: Tatara was always the reserved sort. She never expected company outside of the Amenoma shop, nor did she particularly want it. On the first night of the new year, however, all that would change.


**_The Flames of a Swordsmith's Heart_**_**  
><strong>_**by rkOujirou**

Author's note: This story takes place a day after the Akihabara Raid in Season 2, Episode 8 of the Log Horizon anime. Future episodes may contradict some of the circumstances surrounding this story, in which case you can just consider this as something that deviates from the main plot a bit. I have a certain fondness for smiths, so I really wanted to do something for Tatara. Hopefully she gets some love from others, too. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Log Horizon is not my idea and I don't own it or any of the characters, obviously.

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><p>In the city of Akihabara, the first day of the new year brought with it plenty of festivities and excitement. Adventurers the city over celebrated with a wide variety of savory food and friends, not only because of the holiday, but also because the murderer running rampant in the streets for over a week had finally been defeated. Of course, in the process of dealing with the murderer, the magic protecting the city from monsters had to be disabled. It was for that reason everyone knew they would have to keep an eye out around the place from now on.<p>

With evening came the dark skies and an accumulation of clouds. A moderate, steady snow fell from above. By the time the last of the businesses closed for the day, the snow was already piling up on that which previously covered the ground.

Come nighttime, everyone was keeping warm indoors, including on the western side of the city where a radiant fire crackled inside a small home. There, an old rocking chair swayed forward and back in front of the fireplace.

This was the residence of Tatara, accomplished swordsmith and guild master of the Amenoma weapons production guild.

Tatara sipped idly at a steaming hot cup of cocoa, a thin blanket draped over her lap. Accessories such as her gloves, goggles, and facemask sat piled up on a flimsy table by the door—it was more comfortable without them, and they weren't really necessary while she was here anyway. She never left the lights on in the house at this time of night; the fire provided all the light she needed to get around.

Back when Akihabara's inhabitants were still trying to figure out their living arrangements, most of them looked to live close to the city's center either with their guildmates or in close proximity to them. Tatara was an exception. Interacting with customers was an everyday part of running business, but once the Amenoma shop's door was closed, she sought peace and quiet more than anything.

Peace and quiet was something she found plenty of at the home she decided to purchase. It was only big enough to accommodate one, maybe two people, but there was a thick line of trees along all sides of the property except the front that kept her adequately secluded. Not that the trees were really needed; this was a rare part of the city where structures had quite a bit of space between them, the trade-offs being their comparatively smaller size and greater distance from the main trade zone.

What really sold her on the property, though, was the old forge out back. With that, she could do her work freely from home so long as she had the required materials. If there was any lore behind this place in Elder Tale's story, it was almost certain to involve a reclusive smith of some sort, she figured.

Tatara took another sip from her cup, staring into the fire with those eyes of hers that matched its color. She didn't recall when it was that spending some time just sitting like this before bed became an every-night thing for her, but she was glad it did; it was relaxing, even if it did make her feel somewhat older than she actually was.

Just then, a rapping came at her window's wooden shutters. Tatara's eyes widened, and her pointed ears twitched. She turned to the open window.

Outside, a girl with dark hair hung upside down from the roof amidst the falling snowflakes, her long ponytail dangling below her head. It was the notoriously quiet assassin of Log Horizon, Akatsuki. She averted her eyes as Tatara looked her way.

"U-umm…excuse me," Akatsuki mumbled, "do you have a minute?"

Now this was a surprise, Tatara thought. She'd never once had someone visit her home like this—and she generally preferred it that way. But then, as far as potential guests went, there were some she minded less than others.

"That's an interesting way of appearing you have," said Tatara, quirking her eyebrows. "Come in."

Akatsuki swung herself in through the window, did a quick roll in the air, and landed on her feet. Brushing the snow from her shoulders, she slowly approached the fire.

"Are you cold?" Tatara asked, holding up her cocoa. "Want some?"

"No, thank you. I'm fine," said Akatsuki.

Tatara caught a glimpse of a second rocking chair close to her own. She'd almost forgotten it was there. It came with the house just as the other one did, but there was never anyone around to use it…until now. "Have a seat."

Akatsuki sat down, positioning herself stiffly at the chair's edge.

"I'm surprised you knew where I lived," said Tatara, curiously.

"I'm sorry. I did some asking around," Akatsuki admitted. "I didn't want to bother you while you were minding your shop. I would have talked to you last night, but the pajama party was...kind of hectic."

Tatara couldn't blame her; she knew exactly what Akatsuki meant regarding the party. "It was something else, wasn't it? Did you enjoy it?"

"Ah, well…it was fun, but…" Akatsuki shied away, scratching her cheek, "for me, I guess it was a little…"

"You and me both," said Tatara, smiling a bit. "Socializing isn't one of my strengths either."

Akatsuki nodded. She was getting better with people, but, admittedly, she still had a ways to go. It was comforting, at least, knowing she wasn't the only one.

"So, what did you come to talk about?" Tatara asked.

Akatsuki shifted restlessly in her seat. Reaching behind her, she pulled out a short sword with a blood-red hilt and a dark purple sheath: Haganemushi-Tatara, the weapon bestowed upon her by Tatara the previous night.

"My sword?" said Tatara. "Is it not to your liking?"

"N-no! That's not it!" Akatsuki nearly jumped up from her seat she was so emphatic. "It's a magnificent blade! Just holding it makes me so happy I can hardly keep myself from weeping." True to her word, merely staring down at Haganemushi-Tatara left her feeling choked up.

Over Tatara's time playing Elder Tale, one thing that never got old was seeing the elation someone expressed when they first received one of her swords. Players didn't choose to become swordsmiths because it was easy; they were so difficult to level that many often referred to it as a "masochist's subclass". To be dedicated enough to choose to be a swordsmith, one had to love what it entailed, and that Tatara did. As such, seeing a reaction like Akatsuki's warmed her heart like nothing else.

"But," Akatsuki went on, her expression fading, "before, this sword was so expensive. Then you even reforged it to accommodate me. I feel like…like I haven't done anything to deserve such a wonderful thing."

Pulling away her blanket, Tatara rose from her chair. She stepped up next to the fire. "Do you know what a swordsmith's greatest joy is?"

"A swordsmith's…greatest joy?" Akatsuki blinked. Her brow furrowed as she thought it over, fumbling over guesses in her mind one after the other. "M-…money?"

Tatara lightly shook her head. "It's true we're all merchants by trade, but money isn't what we covet most." Setting her cup down on the fireplace's wooden mantle, she walked over to her guest, leaned forward, and softly caressed the other girl's cheek. "A swordsmith's greatest joy is knowing the weapons they put so much work into are being wielded by righteous warriors who admire their swords and treat them with the utmost reverence."

Akatsuki gawked in wonderment as the look in Tatara's eyes sharpened.

"When I learned that monster was using the Byakumaru I sold him to terrorize Akihabara," said Tatara, "it made me sick to my stomach. I was so disgusted I didn't want anyone to see me. I couldn't even stand to look at myself.

"And then there was you. I was watching every time you came into the shop, always looking so determined to become stronger. You worked so hard trying to stop him. When I came back to Amenoma yesterday and saw Haganemushi, I knew who I wanted to have it."

Tatara tipped Akatsuki's chin up and inched closer, so close that Akatsuki could feel the swordsmith's sweet, cocoa-scented breath tickling against her lips. "I chose you to be that sword's owner," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "You're the only one I wish to see wielding it. No one else."

The two of them stayed frozen that way as a hush fell upon them. Tatara bit down on her bottom lip. She hadn't expected to take things this far. Perhaps she would have gone further had she not seen the tears rolling down Akatsuki's face. Letting her hand fall away, she backed off.

Akatsuki used her sleeve to dry her eyes. "Thank you! Thank you, Tatara-san," she sobbed. "I don't know how I can ever repay you, but if there's a way, please tell me."

"Didn't you read the flavor text?" said Tatara, retrieving her cup from the mantle. "Just remain steady on your path, and use that sword of mine to cut down any evil in your way. That's enough for me."

Sniffling, Akatsuki jolted to her feet. "I'll do it! Absolutely, without fail."

"You'd better." Tatara smiled. "If you ever need it fixed up, you know where to find me."

Akatsuki offered a quick bow to show her gratitude. She leapt for the window, and with a brilliant flash of violet, she was gone.

Alone again, Tatara closed her eyes and exhaled. She placed a hand against her chest. The rapid thumping of her heart could still be felt within.

_That was almost too much for me_, she thought.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Tatara strolled over to the window. She placed her arms atop the sill and stared out into the wintry night, watching as the snowflakes gently rained down upon the ground.

_Earnest assassin of the guild Log Horizon, I hope that sword will suffice for now. One day, with my own voice, maybe I'll be able to convey to you the full extent of my feelings._

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><p><strong>The End<strong>


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